Our lost future
by Her Knightship
Summary: One-shot of all the casualties and deaths in that godforsaken war, his hit her the hardest. No ownership over the Harry Potter franchise.


**So here we are again. This time with a far more depressing story but we'll see how this goes.**

**If you're anything like me then get cheese balls or som****e kind of comfort food. It doesn't matter really, cheese balls are good for all occasions.**

**Ja ne.**

Of all the deaths and casualties the heroes suffered in the horrific battle of Hogwarts, Fred Weasley's was the one that hit one family the hardest.

Hermione Granger, Gryffindor's resident bookworm and the heroine of the last Great War, sat on an old, worn bed looking out of the window as she absently played with a silver ring on her finger. She had been in locked up in his room for a few weeks now and still couldn't bring herself to leave.

She couldn't get those last moments out of her head. There was a series of bright red flashes and then a wall had come tumbling down on him, on her future. She should have been quicker, she saw the whole thing, he was laughing and then, he was…dying.

"Fred look at me, you've got to get through this. Y-you can't die, YOU JUST CAN'T!"  
She'd screamed at him not to die on her, she'd tried to save him, tried to get help when that had failed.

He'd told her to be happy, to live how he had lived and died…with a smile on his face.

It had become a fall back reaction. Whenever she was in need of comfort she would play with the ring on her finger. The same ring he'd had in his pocket for a year, the same ring she was told he'd wanted to give to her in the future, once everything had settled down.

She'd never been more content and more distraught when George, the one person who knew what she was going through, had told her everything. Made her realise there always was someone there for her.

When she had been in her third year, no one looked more relieved to see her safe than he did, she'd thought it was for Ron but apparently she'd thought wrong. In her fourth year, she'd been through a maelstrom of thoughts, feelings and emotions that had been emphasised by that yule ball disaster, He'd been looking at her that night, he'd been worried about her that night, and he'd had a go at his baby brother that night and all for her.  
He'd ventured into places no self-respecting Weasley twin had ever been for her; the library for one.

He'd been the one to leave those mysterious gifts on her bed on her birthday and Christmas.  
He'd find her lost things, refill her ink and quill supplies, fix up her torn books, he'd do the little, unnoticeable things that made her life easier and she'd never known.

But she'd watch as his life prematurely ended. She'd been helpless, traumatized, frozen. She'd visited and re-visited the scene. She couldn't get over it. She'd heard his last words so many times.

"I think this prankster has to say mischief managed for now… "

She'd thought it was so typical for him to go out the most memorable way, just like in her fifth year with Umbrige, the year he'd made sure she would never get one of her dreaded detentions.

He'd turned to look at her and continued,

"Remember me with a smile; I can't stand to see you sad…"

She'd been so confused; George had understanding written on his face whilst she'd just looked down at him with tears in her eyes. Then she'd heard the three words that shook her to her broken soul.

His last words in front of four witnesses,

"I-I…love you."

And then, with a smile on his face, he'd faded away.

And she'd broken down in tears.

And three Weasleys watched in a mixture of shock, sorrow and disappointment of what could have been as she'd latched onto his body, denying the whole thing, wishing it was a terrible nightmare, hoping that it was just a cruel joke and he would get up.  
She'd just wanted a chance to tell him, that even though she'd chastised, berated and scolded him, in the end she'd loved him to, and that's all that mattered.

When the rest of the family had found her, she'd been crying in front of a broken off piece of the mirror of Erised. She still has the piece; she takes it out from under her pillow just to take one more look at her lost future. Her shattered tomorrow.

Of all the deaths and casualties in that godforsaken war, Fred Weasley's had hit Hermione Granger the hardest.  
Because out of all the deaths and casualties they suffered, he was the one she couldn't live without.

He was the one that she will never recover from.

And so here she sat, tears streaming down her face as she cuddled his old quidditch shirt and absently played with the silver ring on her finger, thinking of what could have been.

**Hi, I'm back.**  
**Please tell me what you think.**  
**Your reviews sustain me.**

**Good bye again.**


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